


The Cardinals

by Doedeka



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Basically the craft 1996, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Elemental Magic, F/F, F/M, Hide yo wife, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Other, Supernatural Elements, Unrequited Love, Witch story, Witchcraft, but it’s set in 1995, depression is a hell of a drug, hide ya kids, started out as a fanfiction, totally original
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28509921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doedeka/pseuds/Doedeka
Summary: (Original story)Lourde moves into a new chapter of her life.  California is a sunny place holding the road where she and her mother are going down.  New school, new neighborhood, new people; a new name.  She comes across a coven and becomes entwined in a larger plot from a light magic chick-lit toward eldritch horrors beyond ones imagination.But hey magic weed.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	The Cardinals

**Author's Note:**

> Eh

“Mom,” Lourde said. Her tone bored, the car rattled as the rain’s pattering continued on unfettered.  
“Lourde. It’s just an hour away, be patient.” Her mother, Amelie said.  
Her hands glided across the steering wheel. Brushing against every dry crack in the polymer fabric. It’s smooth blackness made it easy to grip. The roads outside were streaming rainwater. A few storm clouds had caught up and converged above. Downpour lasted a mere hour- barely ten minutes of pelting rain. The rest of the remaining tempest was shy sprinkling. Clouding up every window in a thick haze. Cool enough to touch like a Midwestern snow cover.  
The bemused Lourde recollected images of that simpler time. She sure missed Colorado, with its hilly terrain. The temperature is cold but comforting. Mountainous lines breaking the sun’s orange aura. Indeed it was simpler, not many people lived in the town Lourde and Amelie lived in. Everyone there held belief high above all else, higher than law for some. The traditional family unit, and dedicating a weekend for church. Lourde wasn’t one for Sunday school- and promptly not one for their views either. Church was an enticing place to see people. Those who are the spitting look of a nuclear family, something Lourde and her mother were not.  
But what truly drowned those opportunities to fit in the vernal crowd; Lourde didn’t last well in the stiff mold everyone else fitted in. You either followed two directions; the macho masculine ideal of a sporty guy, boisterous voice and harassing girls. Bonus the jock attitude to everyone, her old school was some football obsessed one. Again if you live in a small town in the middle of the Midwest tundra- anything would be better than daily monotony.  
The alternative path was a little more open, by how you dealt your virginity that is. One could spiral down the path of stereotypical bitchiness. A bad attitude caused by anything- menstrual cramps, getting dumped by the boyfriend of the week, a cracked nail. Chastity was reserved for the goody two shoes in the back. Keeping their blushing noses down a book of Anne Rice’s vampire series. Dreaming away a school morning in the fantasy of being held by a courtly lamia.  
Miscellaneous roles bent the boyish to feminine side of things. On one mid side of the binary you got the nerds. Stocky characters with amazing IQ but social skills still in fledgling stages. Niche media loving Geeks, dorks that picked their nostrils behind people’s backs. Party creeps that kept tabs of all their lewd comments, gropes, and at times assaults- from parties. One such teen creep got caught last November from what Lourde remembered; got caught a week thereafter. A straight month the newspapers documented every single court hearing.  
Everyone in school gossiped about who- the now criminal (also called Caleb) had contacted. Word passed that he touched five cheerleaders. Two he confessed to roofiying but kept big details of what exactly he did. Amidst confessional trials rumors came out that further cemented his status. Some demonized him to no end, fake spitting or scowled disgusted at the mention of his name. The other detested him but ultimately joked Caleb “got caught.” Seeing the whole show as some shitshow instead of a real tragedy.  
Of the tales conceived; Caleb is rumored to have driven a young Dean away from her job. Stalked a prom queen, stole personal items with his fellow lackeys in the girls locker room, and that was just to name a few.  
Back then, Lourde was thankful not to dunk her head in that stream of chaos. School to her wasn’t at all synonymous toward gossiping. Since she kept her mouth shut- that’s what she did best. Keep everything to yourself even if others' ignorance went above and beyond tolerable. Sure, Caleb wasn’t a good guy but couldn’t you pay attention to the victims?  
How did they feel? They were probably still hurting and kept on having to keep their identities anonymous from scrutiny. Of course- no one would ever know, but still those questions (even months after) were seeded in Lourde’s mind. The mind static filled as theories grew, but again, all futile assumptions since she'd be moving anyway. Moving over a thousand miles to the west coast. Sun in place of thick, weather clouds that dampen good spirits.  
Five days of gliding through the passages of the interstate highway. The sights Lourde and Amelie saw ranged to barren desert flats, to those nostalgic mountains stretching higher than the cable towers. Between Kodak photo shoots in front of forced perspective bridges where Lourde jokingly leaned against bridge towers; quiet  
moments of small chatting were ample. Those moments dedicated to strolling on the radio passing between old 80s bands and the Backstreet Boys. It was a gleeful fight to get on a desirable station. In between that supreme rarity, the music was best left off. Lourde lazily stretched her legs on the head of the passenger seat. Taking up the back’s right space- basking triumphantly in the sun.  
“La-Lourde,” Amelie quickly corrected herself.  
Choking a bit on her tongue tied-ness, Amelie corrected by shifting then gazing her sharp eyes Lourde.  
“Almost an hour left,” she said awaiting some response.  
By now Lourde picked at her nails; chipping lilac encasing her nails. Boredly, the girl peered out the car window seeing as the open highway melded into suburban towns. Very spacious considering where they came from. Palm trees were like the oaks, sitting upfront and everywhere. Sagging dried out leaves as the sun beat down on them.  
“Seems idealic for a vacation Mom,” Lourde said with an edge of jest.  
“That’s what one gets from moving in Los Angeles, by the way we’ve got a week off.” Amelie responded, intently reading the road signs of new streets.  
“To what? Unpack everything we still have and laundering our way here?” Lourde said.  
“I wouldn’t say laundering Lourde, it makes me feel like a loan shark,” Amelie playfully remarked back. Turning abruptly leading to Lourde sway side to side.  
“Sorry Sweetie.” Lourde rolled her eyes, pulling herself from the awkward angle she got entangled into.  
It was going to be some catholic school, with uptight rules on dress codes. Maybe the next two years won’t be as insufferable as she feared. Certainly less so as her uniform, fortunately, was a loose blouse, Prussian blue tie that matched the knee length skirt. Not exactly her personal fashion taste, but at least her mother was conscientious about her wardrobe on the phone order. The conversation preceding that final decision was a difficult back and forth. One irritated parent trying to cross school administrators that her kid was in fact a daughter.  
Not everyone left their minds open for those sorts of talks. Let alone this school Lourde was enrolled into. An upside however, no one from Colorado would have followed them all one thousand miles west. No jock, geek, creep, or rumor spitting girl would say a single word on Lourde. This was a clean slate on the sun state. She could wear anything she desired without fearing those side eyes. Whispering questions about Lourde’s integrity.  
Here, in the sunny suburbs Lourde could roam free. Blooming a new face she strived to one day have…. and some glitter would be lovely.  
————  
White picket fence aligned the whitewashed, two story house in a very, very white neighborhood.  
Second the car conditioner powered down the heat pushed in. Moisture clung around following anything that dared to step out. The car engine sputtered off a loud purr into relative muteness. The mechanical beast that carried them from point A to point B relaxed downward. Lowering a working posture. Clothing and the like was neatly stuffed inside reused boxes. Others were a poorly thrown mess containing mini vortexes. It was at that moment the realization of it all kicked in. Lourde heaved a heavy sigh, lunging in box after box. Stepping inside their new home, her eyes firmly set on the heavy load.  
It was, however, the heaviest thing. The prospect of a new life- one entirely new. Like a game cartridge giving the player sprite a respawn; this was exactly how it felt. Bobbing in and out of the front door, Amelie rushed inside as much her arms could carry. Her stern eyes frantically gazing from the front entrance to the rolling grey sky. Foreboding cloud bodies slowly but assuredly swallowed the pale blues. Thunder rumbled by the time everything now rested inside.  
Still contained in the walls of worn cardboard; stacks on stacks of dinnerware were unpacked first. Amelie swiped away the layers of dust. Every corner dust bunny was hunted. All visible crevasses of mysterious “gunk” wiped down. The omnipresent musk of absentee grime was replaced by nose numbing citrus. Overriding even the strongest dish soaps.  
Cabinets that overhung the counters, microwave, and hand level drawers were filled. Newly bought appliances sat next to old, still usable pieces. Ugly orange snack plates were the first to be used in the new home. Set on the small dining table once cocooned in bubble wrap. Though the journey from Colorado was rough, the rickety wood piece still functioned. A knit mat centered the rectangular furnishing. On it an appealing bowl, maybe one day it’d be filled with bananas.  
“How… about Chinese?” Amelie said.  
Leaning back behind the kitchen pillar,” her curly hair comically hanging behind.  
“Something with pasta, not hungry mom.”  
“M-mhm,” her mother hummed in thought before leaning forward. Her attention once again set solely on the phone.  
Dinner could have been a little more tasteful. Slightly lukewarm food however was better than eating anything at the nearby gas stations. As her mother continued the overphine order, Lourde settled on the living room floor. The couch had yet to be unwrapped but the carpeted flooring would suffice. A lone coffee table was the only piece not covered in plastic. A small hand me down from her grandmother; shortly before her inevitable passing.  
It wasn’t antique porcelain by any means. Simple handiwork with her mother’s initials on a leg with ‘1975 accompanying. Just a handful of years before Lourde came into the world. It was always there to hide under, hold objects like the television remote she teethed.  
The magnavox in the corner blared a layer of static on the news broadcast. Yet to be properly wired to the new electric rig. Playing was the evening news some-Kelly or… people. Faces Lourde had never seen. Discussing celebrity tabloids over the truly important. Snuck in between was the forecast coverage; heavy rain for two days. And an interesting topic at the end.  
“Investigators say missing persons all share similar traits such as age, economic status, general middle class…. Specifics are still up in the air as each new victim complicates the investigative process for why this is happening.”  
A curious case indeed. As Lourde pondered the news coverage; eyeing down the bold text streaming across the screen. It’d been happening for quite some time. Starting last May to the current month, early October. Over a dozen or so faces up in the air, and yet a corpse to resurface.  
In the Los Angeles suburbs that information took seed as Lourde noticed. Walking outside to wave her mother off- who was heading out to grab their takeout. Down each side was a deathly calm. Nightly crickets zoned the eerie quiet of the night. Trees swayed but no one was out. Not a dog barking or a jogger. Standing out on the cool, wet grass grounded Lourde as she took in the intense silence. Her hair blew gently in the coolish breeze. A distance away evening traffic filled the back audibly.  
Lourde stood back and headed inside. Stepping a wet sock on the hardwood, she winced at the sloshy fabric. Sliding indiscreetly toward the kitchen; Lourde pulled out two decently sized plates. None too large or small, perfect for a mild dinner. Two cups too but Lourde doubted her mother would use her’s. Beer was best served bottle only.  
Dinner wasn’t glamorous as was the expectation. Stir fry blended browned rice in an assortment of steamed veggies boiled out of their flavor; meat in small savory strips served to give only an inch of flavor. Salts, fat, and juices sloshed on the near cold meal. The long drive back significantly cooled down everything. Egg drop soup survived the long haul; being a few kelvin units warmer than room temperature cereal.  
“I heard about disappearances on the news radio.” Amelie mentioned her eyes downcast on her fork.  
Stirring a shrimp back in the rice, Lourde peered up.  
“It’s been going on-I think for a few months now.”  
Her mother hummed in agreement. Less than a year, so many gone missing. Not that they were largely important if one looked at it objectively. Mostly upper middle school to first year college students. If Lourde herself was one of those missing faces she’d be right in the middle. Not quite an adult with the whole independence, but not quite young either. The scenario's implications would keep running in Lourde’s mind.  
What would it be like to disappear? To one day not be there. Not have breakfast in the desolate living room. Wait on the bus or even see the day passing. What an odd day in the life of an absentee. Though as before, all missing possess similar characteristics. Most befitted the age range, young girls that went to public schools; unremarkably unremarkable. Really the ethnicity seemed to be the only outlier here. There were no Bundy “brunette victims.” Barely visual coherence so in a way, it was quite diverse. Luckily Lourde herself was no one of a kind specimen, at least until you got past first appearances.  
She spent the rest of the evening slouched on the floor. Chin on palm, mind zoning out on the MTV’s ads between. Previously watching a stop motion rock video I.e Tool band. Spice girls would soon follow up right after McDonald’s ads. Flashing brights kept lethargy at bay. Lourde heard her mother washing down the used plates. Clacking porcelain together television music could not cover.  
Nearly a week on the road and time’s perception changed. Hours inside an airlock car broke down a day’s overall feel. Morning to afternoon meant little as both held the sun high. Evening to night was a flowing blurr. Only light to dark mattered as that meant the possibility to stretch outside or eat someplace. Those days made Lourde somewhat thankful for the number of fast food places. Not healthy but healthy for her sanity.  
Retiring upstairs as soon as the clock chimed 9pm; Lourde heavily trudged up the stairs. Winded after the twelfth step she continued to push on. Looking back at the novelty of having a staircase. All Lourde knew before was living in a small, flat home devoid of a basement or attic too. Long narrow halls brought a much darker interior. She frowned at that. Shuffling past the shadows quickly even if those imaginary evils may not have been there.  
Lourde grasped her door’s handle. A cold door knob leading to her room. Soft lilac color painted each wall with the ceiling left white. Her dresser sat squarely next to the door; a sole vanity sat in front of one out of two windows. Quaint to Lourde’s tastes. It would take a few weeks to warm up to the new room. A new bed had yet to come, only a flabby sleeping bag between her and the carpet.  
Unboxing a few abandoned packages, Lourde decorated the tops of her room’s two furnishings. A lamp for both, small mementos danced across her dresser. Her vanity left predominantly bare save for a new hairbrush. Lourde spent her latter hour throwing clothing between deep drawers or her small closet. Hanging unworn dresses above dainty shoes such as ballet flats. All was good seeing neatly folded socks color coded across. A rainbow of fabric Lourde would eventually wear.  
A gentle knock caught Lourde in her mid step toward bed. Slowly pushing the door open, and the wood barely making a creak. Peeking behind her mother’s eyes popped out. A green stare befitting a light brunette, one that greyed with time however. Charming dimples creased on Amelie’s cheeks seeing the small figurines scattered on Lourde’s dresser. Crystalline figures amorphously standing but all distinct. One green one growing leafy flutter-by wings; standing close a blue maritime humanoid. Far stood a red vagabond with draconian features. A yellow figurine stood behind it’s shadow, a halo shaped head. Last but not least, the purple one was absent.  
“Where’s the last one? Y’know grape.” Amelie said.  
Lourde slipped off her cool sleeping back. In her hand the flowering, purple nymph cradled safely on her palm. Shining pink when the ceiling light danced across it’s fragile form.  
“I like to hold it close.” Lourde responded, fondly looking at it’s features.  
Amelie smiled at that.  
“So… Do you need something?,” Lourde questioned.  
“Just seeing how you’re taking… all of this in.” She unfurled her folded arms, gesturing toward the whole of the room.  
Lourde looked over the broad picture, rolling over everything inhabiting the room.  
“Better than my dusty room!” Lourde said rolling her shoulders jovially.  
Amelie agreed and, slowly, her worry reeled back. It was a new chapter in their lives. Colorado was a past footnote, and other loose ends belonged back there. For now their lives continued on in the sun state. A new, hopefully better road presented itself in the coming week.  
————  
Dreaming was never common for Lourde’s late evenings. Rain pattered the windows by the time she rested her head down. Snuggling against a blow up pillow. Her eyes heavy and slow to the fading world. All to see was unconscious darkness of sleep. A comforting setting that felt all too short once the alarm released its shrill scream.  
The world her mind created ceased feeling like it existed as its own, separate thing. Lourde walked a long corridor across an urban place. Perhaps school? Maybe, it was vast buildings stretched like walls. Dark shadows crawled slowly. Reaching out slimy roots toward Lourde’s bare feet.  
She stuttered in fear, unnerved immensely by the thing approaching. Circling her front Lourde backed nigh ten feet away. The farther the better as the sun lowered, the shadow seemed to grow. An umbra filled setting swallowed every ounce of remaining light. Gulping the school’s tables, flagpoles, yet not touching the buildings. Lourde stifled a moment then sprinted past as the darkness flooded her space. Screeching an insect gargle, the thing parched forward. Sputtering it’s moist vitriol fling around like mucus.  
Lourde outstretched her arm to the door handles. Hope resided in the double door entrance. A second she fully touched the warm handles. Preparing to pull back instead the inky tissue grabbed hold of her ankle.  
Before tugging Lourde back she screamed a soundless cry. And then, the alarm went off.


End file.
